


621 Miles

by The_Doctors_Milkshake



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Post Mpreg, San Jose Sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 03:07:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12808278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Doctors_Milkshake/pseuds/The_Doctors_Milkshake
Summary: Brenden's counting down the miles until he can get home.





	621 Miles

**Author's Note:**

> I've always wanted to read a Dillion/Jones mpreg fic, so I decided to write it. This is my first fic and it's unbetaed, so all mistakes are my own.

The flight from Phoenix to Mineta airport is a short one, but Brenden can’t stop fidgeting, desperate to get home. He can hear laughing from across the aisle, before Jumbo’s voice breaks through the clamor of the airplane.

“Your boy’s not going anywhere Dilly. He’s going to be exactly where you left him,” Joe says.

Brenden glares at him. “I know that. But I just…” He trails off.

“First one away from the family is always hard. You’ve had less time to get used to it. Joner’s usually within reach, but now you codependent fuckers know how the rest of us feel.”

Brenden sighs, and switches his phone on, trying to calculate how much longer before he’ll be home. He’s distracted by his home screen; Martin sitting up in a hospital bed, hair a mess, dark circles under his eyes, but with the biggest grin on his face. In his arms, a squalling child, small hands flailing and a shock of dark hair pointing to who his other father is. It’s his favorite picture, Martin and Oliver. He wasn’t planned, shocked the hell out of both of them, but Brenden wouldn’t change him for the world or the Cup. He unlocks his phone and opens his last texts with Martin. There’s the selfie Martin sent him after the game, their baby, sleeping on Martin’s chest, and a simple “Good game, see you soon” followed by a string of shark emojis. Brenden smiles to himself, and settles in for the remainder of the flight.

When they finally touch down, Brenden is the first one off the plane. As he hustles to his car, he can hear the team heckling him, wolf whistles piercing the late night stillness.

“Dilly! Remember to use protection this time! We need Jonesy for next year!” Chris calls out. Brenden flips him off from over his shoulder, and climbs in his car, more than ready to be home.

\-----

By the time he gets to the house he shares with Martin, it’s late enough for it to be called morning. He parks the car in the driveway, not wanting the noise of the garage door to wake Martin or Oliver. He walks up the front steps to their door, and carefully unlocks it, closing it quietly behind him. He locks it again, and puts his keys in the bowl by the door that someone on the team had given them as a housewarming present. He toes off his shoes at the bottom of the stairs, and walks up them quietly, dropping his bags outside the master bedroom. He makes his way across the landing to the nursery, when he notices light coming from the partially opened door. He peers inside. Martin’s shirtless, hushing a whining Oliver.

“I know you’re hungry little man. It’s right here for you. Shhhhh. Come on baby.” Evidently Oliver figures it out, because Martin flinches a little as their fussy baby goes quiet, except for the soft sounds of suckling. Brenden opens the door and wraps his arms around Martin’s waist, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“He give you any trouble?” Brenden asks. Martin turns around in his arms, so Oliver is resting between them, still nuzzling Martin’s chest.

“No more than expected of any son of yours,” Martin replies, looking down at their baby with a tired grin on his face. Oliver looks like he’s full, grinning his gummy smile up at his dads. Brenden picks up a towel from the dresser and puts it over his shoulder before reaching for Oliver.

“Let me put him to bed,” He says, resting Oliver’s head on his shoulder. “You go get some sleep.” His kisses Martin on the cheek, and begins to bounce up and down, gently patting Oliver’s back. Martin nods, “Okay, but,” breaking off as a huge yawn interrupts what he was about to say. Brenden chuckles, loving how soft and sleep rumpled Martin looks. Martin glares at him, then continues, “Don’t come to bed too late okay?” Brenden nods, and watches Martin pad barefoot out of the nursery.

“Just you and me now little man,” Brenden says. He still can’t believe that Oliver is here. Can’t believe that Martin trusted him not to leave, trusted the team to still want him, let him take as long as he needed. Brenden knew Martin gave up a lot during his pregnancy, and he loves him all the more for it. The first few months were tough. The Sharks were slumping, and the playoffs looking farther and farther out of reach. Not to mention the fear that ran through the team every time Martin practically sprinted off the ice after practice only to be found throwing up in one of the trainers rooms. Nerves, he claimed at the time. Brenden wanted to force him to go see the doctor, but didn’t know if that was something he was allowed to do. When Martin was finally decided to go get a checkup, Brenden had insisted he tag along. Their relationship may not have been defined, but he needed to be there, not for his boyfriend or fuck buddy or whatever they were, but for his best friend on the team. Finding out Martin was pregnant was the best news Brenden ever received, even better than being drafted. 

Standing here, his baby in his arms, his boyfriend down the hall, the Sharks still charging on, Brenden couldn't be happier. Oliver finally falls asleep, and Brenden put him in his crib, making sure his favorite stuffed shark is close by. He lingers by the crib for a little longer, then makes his way to the master bedroom. Martin is sleeping with his back towards Brenden, wearing a shirt with a large number four and “Dillon” spread across his shoulders. It brings a smile to Brenden’s face. The clothes he normally wears to bed are still in his bags outside the door, so his strips down to his boxers, and crawls in behind Martin. He shifts a little before pushing back into Brenden’s embrace.

“‘i'm glad you're back home,” Martin mutters. “We were lonely without you.”

“I’m so excited to be home Jonesy, you have no idea,” Brenden says. “The boys gave me so much shit.” He presses a kiss behind Martin’s ear. “I missed you.”

“You can show me how much you missed me in the morning, yeah?” Martin teases.

“Sure babe,” Brenden says. He tugs Martin even closer to him, and falls asleep with the warm scent of milk and baby powder filling his lungs. 

\----

Soft light filling in through the window wakes Brenden up the next morning. He’s still pretty tired, but he has plans for today, and no practice until tomorrow afternoon. There’s no noise coming from the baby monitor, and Martin’s showing signs of waking up as well. Perfect. Brenden stats to lay kisses on the faint freckles dusted across the back of Martin’s neck. He sucks a small bruise into the skin where Martin’s shirt has slid down to reveal the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Brenden can hear the low groan Martin lets out before he turns over, facing Brenden. 

“Hi,” He says, eyes still mostly closed and his hair sticking up on one side, flat on the other. Even with the ridiculous shark fin bedhead, he’s Brenden’s favorite thing to wake up to.

“Hi,” Brenden says back. He places a soft kiss on Martin’s lips, his nose, his forehead, bringing out Martin’s giggle that few get to hear. He’s so grateful for this crazy man.

“Last night you made some big promises Dilly,” Martin says.

“Did I?” Brenden asks. “Let me see if I can remember what that was.” He rolls them over so he’s braced over Martin. He runs his hand up under Martin’s shirt, pushing it towards his shoulders and massages one nipple. Martin hisses out a breath.

“Hurts?” Brenden asks.

“No just sensitive,” Martin replies. He sits up to take off the shirt Brenden rucked up, then sprawls back on the bed. He’s softer now, face rounded out, pecs more pronounced and his hips a little wider. All these changes little signs that point to the life they created together. He takes Brenden’s breath away. He reaches over to the nightstand to grab lube and a condom, chuckling a little to himself thinking about what Chris said last night. 

“What’s so funny?” Martin asks.

“The teams worried I’m going to keep you out for another nine months,” Brenden replies, still laughing a little.

“We can’t have that,” Martin says with a grin. “We need a cup to put Oliver in.”

Brenden nods, and leans down to kiss Martin again, grinding his hips down into Martin’s. They gasp as their cocks line up, both of them seeking friction.

“Off,” Martin gasps, pawing at Brenden’s boxers. “Take these off.”

Brenden sits up on his knees and takes his boxers off, and bends down to pull off Martin’s sweatpants and boxers, too impatient to wait for Martin to do it himself. He shoves the clothing off the bed and reaches for the lube. He pushes his way between Martin’s legs, blessing goalie flexibility when Martin places his legs over Brenden’s shoulders. He slicks up a few fingers, and runs one lightly around Martin’s hole.

“Get on with it Dilly” Martin says.

Brenden slides the finger into the warm tight heat at the same time as he resumes kissing Martin, bending him nearly in half. He pumps the finger a few times before adding another one. Martin moans into the kiss at the stretch, pushing back onto Brenden fingers. Brenden curls them the next time Martin pushes back, and he lets out a whine as Brenden hits his prostate.

“There we go Jonesy,” Brenden says with a smirk. He continues to rub his fingers at the spot, Martin getting more and more desperate beneath him. He pushes another finger in, relishing the small moans Martin’s letting out. He fucks his finger in and out, still curling them every other thrust.

“Brenden,” Martin gasps.

“Soon sweetheart,” Brenden says. He pulls out his fingers and reaches for the condom, cursing when his fingers are too slippery to open up the packet.

Martin laughs at his frustration, and takes the condom from him. He opens up the package, and rolls the condom on Brenden’s dick. He reaches down to guide Brenden to his hole. They both let out a gasp when the head of Brenden’s cock enters Martin. He starts with shallow, short thrusts until Martin kicks his heels into Brenden’s shoulders.

“Out of practice already Dilly?” He teases.

“You’re just impatient,” Brenden says, but he speeds up anyways. Everyone knows he can’t deny Martin anything. He’s letting out short, punched out breaths every time Brenden bottoms out. Brenden lets Martin’s legs slip down from his shoulders to the crooks of his elbows. He hitches Martin’s hips a little higher, and can tell he’s getting even deeper than before by the moan Martin lets out. He’s getting close, so he reaches for Martin’s neglected dick. The head is drooling with precum, helping to slick the way for Brenden’s hand.

“You close baby?” Brenden asks, as he tightens his grip around Martin’s cock, stroking in time with his trusts.

Martin nods, eyes closed, nose scrunched, and hands wringing at the sheets. Suddenly, he goes rigid, clenching around Brenden and feet digging into his back. His come spills out over Brenden’s hand, and he goes boneless. Brenden slows down his trusts, not wanting Martin to feel the sting of oversensitivity. Martin opens his eyes, and grins up at Brenden.

“You better hurry up before Oliver interrupts us.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Brenden says as he begins to move again. It only takes a few more thrusts before he’s spilling into the condom. He pulls out slowly, watching Martin for any signs of pain, but he only scrunches up his nose again and reaches for the tissues on the bedside table. Brenden stands up, and is tying off the condom when Oliver makes his presence known through the baby monitor. The two of them share a sly grin, proud of their impeccable timing. Brenden pulls a new pair of boxers on, and Martin grabs his sweatpants from the side of the bed, then they walk across the landing to the nursery. They can see Oliver in his crib, whining a little and mouthing at his shark. When he notices them walking in, he stops crying and beams at them. Martin picks him up and cradles him to his chest.

Brenden loves watching Martin and Oliver together. They were unsure at first, how they would fare as parents, but Martin’s taken to it like a fish to water. He’s so attentive to their son, and he glows with pride every time a teammate or his wife compliments him on their baby. Martin looks up from where Oliver’s feeding, and smiles at Brenden. He walks over to Martin and strokes a hand over Oliver's dark hair. He loves his little family. He plants a kiss on Oliver’s head, then leans over to kiss Martin.

“Brenden,” Martin says, interrupting the kiss. “Do you think Ollie wants to be a big brother?”

Brenden just laughs, and thanks whoever's out there that Dell’s a great backup.


End file.
